Harboring a Pirate
by Serena-chan1
Summary: Will and Jack meet thirteen years before Curse of the Black Pearl. Now, aboard the Interceptor, Will begins to remember his father's eccentric captain. [WillJack] rr!
1. Prologue

**Harboring a Pirate**

**By Serena-chan**

**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing, save my imagination, of course. This applies to all chapters that may appear under this story's heading.

**Summary: **Will and Jack meet thirteen years before their adventures in Port Royal, back when Jack was the new captain of his father's ship. (Cute little scene where Jack gets his precious hat.) Now, during a chance meeting in the blacksmith's shop, Will begins to remember his father's eccentric captain. (_Curse of the Black Pearl_)

**Prologue**

**England—Thirteen years before the movie**

The brown, tri-corner hat was made of stiff, new leather, and it seemed exceptionally large in Will's small, seven year-old hands. He carried it carefully, walking beside his father through the crowded streets. His father's strides were long and sure, and Will had to take two steps for each of his father's to keep up.

"Father, who is this a present for?" he asked.

"The new captain of me ship," his father replied in his deep, rumbling voice. He noticed young William puffing to keep up and swooped him up safely in his strong arms.

Will enjoyed being up so high and seeing their small town from a grown-up's view, before his father's words began to sink in. "'New captain'? What happened to Captain Richards?"

Captain Richards had been his father's captain for as long as Will could remember. He'd been a cheerful, kind man with a rather large belly, a pleasant laugh and a deep, booming voice. He'd reminded Will of a great lion with his mane of fiery red hair.

Each time their ship made port in Will's town, his father would take him aboard the ship, letting him run and play along the smooth expanse of the deck while his father repaired netting and joked with fellow sailors. Captain Richards would always hoist him up on his powerful shoulders, his scraggly beard tickling Will's face.

He'd place his huge captain's hat on Will's head, chuckling each time at how big it was on him. He would hold Will up to touch the struts of the wheel, letting him pretend to be steering the ship.

"Captain Richards…he went the way of many a fine sailor," his father answered vaguely, avoiding Will's gaze.

To keep Will from questioning him further, he quickly took the hat from his hands and placed it on his son's head, laughing as the brim came down well past his eyes. Will tilted the hat back so he could see, grinning at his father and momentarily forgetting about Captain Richards.

"Here we are."

He was being carried onto the ship now and set down. He watched as his father scanned the semi-crowded decks for someone in particular.

"There he is, Will. Why don't ye go take Captain Jack his hat?"

Will stared at the man his father was pointing to. He wasn't at all what he'd been expecting; the man's long, dark hair was pulled back from his forehead by a bandana, and his face had only a small stubble of a beard and mustache. His eyes were dark as sin and flashed with a sharp sort of intelligence.

What surprised Will the most, however, was that the captain seemed so…-young-. Perhaps no more than twenty, he seemed far too young to be in charge of this magnificent ship.

"I know what yer thinking," his father said, seeing the look on his son's face, "but there's reasons. He may be young, but he certainly isn't as green as he looks. You'd be surprised, my boy, but I tell you that he's done some incredible things; definitely earned the right to be called 'Captain.'"

There was great respect in his father's voice, and Will knew that there were very few people his father looked up to. He turned his gaze back to the man with a new sense of admiration.

"Go on." His father nudged him forward.

Will approached the captain cautiously, feeling slightly intimidated. Captain Jack was perched on a couple of barrels, staring out to sea. He seemed to have this commanding aura about him that almost frightened Will.

As he got closer, however, he could see the expression on the man's face; it was almost child-like with ill-concealed impatience and excitement as he stared off at the horizon. Will suddenly wasn't afraid any more.

Rushing over, Will climbed onto the man's lap. He took the hat (which was still perched at an angle on his own head) off and placed it with proper care onto the head of his father's new captain.

Obsidian eyes turned to him in surprise, and Will smiled shyly, pointing over to where his father was leaning against the mast, laughing. Jack smiled when he saw him.

"I figured every new captain deserves a new hat," he said, approaching them.

Jack grinned his thanks before turning his attention to the boy still in his lap. "And who might this be?"

"This is me son, William."

Later that day, Will was playing below deck when he rounded a bend and saw a door open at the end of a long hall. Inside, leaning over some maps, was Captain Jack. Will watched him for a long while, curious. He kept pulling a compass out of his pocket and checking it. This confused Will, and at last he could no longer hold back his curiosity.

"Don't compasses always point north?" he asked, stepping into the room.

The young man jumped apprehensively, noticing for the first time that he wasn't alone. When he saw that it was just Bill Turner's boy, however, he seemed to relax.

"Most do," he said carefully.

"Then why do you keep checking the one in your pocket if it'll always point you the same way?"

Jack chuckled. "Yer a curious one, aren't ye?"

Will didn't get a chance to reply. There was a sudden commotion above deck. Someone was shouting, and Will heard his father's voice saying that this was just a merchant vessel passing through.

An official sounding voice replied, "Look, sir, I'm just obeying orders, and my orders are to search every ship in the dock. We've reason to believe that a wanted man is onboard a ship in this area."

"What man?" Will heard another sailor ask.

"A Mr. Jack S—"

Will didn't hear the last name for Captain Jack had suddenly jumped out of his chair so fast that it had gone crashing to the floor. They could hear the sounds of footsteps from above moving toward the stairs.

"Quick, lad, in here." Jack grabbed Will roughly by the arm and led him into a storage room. They crouched in the darkness behind large coils of rope, listening as the city officials searched the rooms around them.

Will's brain was racing. He was sure that the man next to them was the one they were searching for, but why? Why would the captain of his father's ship be wanted by the law?

He briefly wondered if he should feel afraid of Captain Jack, but then he remembered the respect in his father's voice. Jack couldn't truly be a bad person.

The voices and footsteps in the room next-door told Will that it would only be a matter of time before someone thought to check the supply room. Jack was sure to be found.

Without thinking, he sprang into action. Quickly, before Jack could stop him, he darted up to the door and opened it just as a heavily armed guard was about to enter.

"You, boy," the man snapped. "What were you doing in that storage closet?"

"Just playing, sir," Will replied. He did his best to look small and scared—which didn't require much acting, really, because he -was- small and scared.

"Were you alone?"

"Yes, sir."

The guard crouched down next to Will. "Now listen carefully, boy. The man we're after is a vicious, blood-thirsty pirate. Is there anyone suspicious onboard?"

"I'd hardly be harboring a pirate," Will replied with truthful conviction.

"Good lad." The guard nodded and moved across the hall to continue searching the rooms, leaving the storage closet forgotten.

Will sat down, leaning against the door as he watched the guards finish their search. His mind was teeming with questions.

The guards were looking for Captain Jack, of that he was certain, but hadn't the man said that the person they were looking for was a pirate? Surely…_surely_ Jack wasn't a pirate, was he? After all, if the ship were captained by a pirate then that would make this a _pirate ship_, and Will felt certain that his father would never sail under the command of a pirate…no, surely the guards had got it wrong.

As the last of the uniformed men admitted defeat and left, the door to the storage closet quietly cracked open. Jack carefully eyed the passageway—empty save for Will—before lunging out, grabbing the boy roughly by the shoulders.

"Do ye realize how stupid that was?" Jack hissed, his eyes flashing. "If they'd caught ye lying, ye'd be marching to the gallows with me. Why in God's name would ye do something like that?"

Will simply stared at the man before him, unsure of what to say. He didn't know himself why he had done it.

The captain's gaze softened. "Still, ye saved me life. I can hardly be mad at ye for that."

Will saw the gratitude and admiration in the older man's eyes, and his heart swelled with pride. He knew Jack wasn't really mad at him.

Suddenly, Will's father pounded down the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw them. "They've gone, but we're definitely not sticking around. We're casting off as soon as I get Will off the ship."

He grabbed Will's hand and pulled him quickly up the stairs, speaking softly and quickly. "It's not safe for us to stay here. Will, can ye get back home from the docks by yerself?"

"Yes," Will said, bursting with curiosity, "but, Father, why—?"

"No time," his father replied, leading him safely off the ship. "I'll explain it all to ye the next time I'm home." He knelt down beside his son, placing both hands on his shoulders. "Give yer mum a kiss for me. Tell her I'm sorry to be leavin' early and that I'll return before winter."

Will a rough pat on the cheek, he was gone. Will watched his retreating form, not knowing that it would be the last time he'd see his father.


	2. Chapter 1: Still Doing Stupid Things

**Harboring a Pirate**

**By Serena-chan**

**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing, save my imagination, of course. This applies to all chapters that may appear under this story's heading.

**Summary: **Will and Jack meet thirteen years before their adventures in Port Royal, back when Jack was the new captain of his father's ship. (Cute little scene where Jack gets his precious hat.) Now, during a chance meeting in the blacksmith's shop, Will begins to remember his father's eccentric captain. (_Curse of the Black Pearl_)

**Chapter 1: Still Doing Stupid Things**

William Turner made his way through the streets of Port Royal, heading back to the blacksmith's shop. He'd been delivering some pieces of silverware and a repaired candlestick to Judge Eberleigh's estate when he'd heard the news; Elizabeth Swann had nearly died twice that afternoon—once from nearly drowning and again at the hands of some filthy pirate.

He clenched his fists in anger, his nails digging into his palms. It made him sick to think of the only woman he loved at the mercy of some bastard pirate.

Pirate…there'd been something about a pirate in the dream he'd had last night…a dream about his father…

Will had very few memories of his father, and those he did have were fuzzy, at best. After all, he'd only been seven years of age when he'd watched his father sail away, never to return.

As he entered the smithy, he cast a weary eye over the drunken form of his employer. The amount of bottles on the floor around him told Will that he'd be lucky if Mr. Brown woke up before sundown.

Amos Brown had been a kind master to him and had taught him well, but ever since his wife died during childbirth nearly a year ago, he had taken to drinking himself into a stupor. Will didn't mind though. A tragedy like that would upset anyone, and besides, it gave him a chance to practice his craft with items that an apprentice normally wouldn't be allowed to touch—the sword for Commodore Norrington's promotional ceremony being a prime example.

Will's attention was suddenly drawn to a strange hat lying on the workbench. He wasn't sure whose it was or how it had gotten there, but something about its shape tickled at the back of his mind.

As he reached out to touch it, however, the flat of a blade slapped him sharply across the back of his hand. Will looked up into a pair of sinfully black eyes, and his blood ran cold.

"You're the one they're hunting," he said slowly. "The pirate…"

"You seem somewhat familiar," the other man drawled. "Have I threatened you before?"

"I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates," Will countered, glaring at the man who had threatened his beloved.

"Ah, well then it would be a shame to put a black mark on yer record, so if ye'll excuse me—"

The man made to leave, and Will snatched up a nearby sword, holding it out menacingly. The pirate gazed back at him with impossibly dark eyes before a gold-toothed smirk began to form on his lips. He drew his sword, clearly amused.

"Do you think this wise, boy, crossing blades with a pirate?"

The man touched the edge of his sword to Will's and ran it up and down as if he were caressing Will's blade with his own. Those magnificent eyes that had been locked with the smith's now raked hungrily over the boy's lithe muscular frame.

Will wasn't sure why, but he felt there was something almost…obscene in the way the pirate eyed his body and ran his sword over his opponent's. It sent a thrill down Will's spine that he couldn't quite explain.

He lunged forward in an attack which the pirate parried easily and shot into a counter-attack. Will blocked, slashed, and then they were off.

Ever fiber of Will's being seemed to come alive in this moment. His muscles reacted instantly, humming to the singing of steel as it reverberated down his arm. He thrust, parried, attacked, lunged, countered; he was king of this domain, and he'd finally met an opponent skilled enough to prove a challenge.

He side-stepped, effectively blocking the man from escaping out the back entrance. Will smiled as he watched the pirate eye the large bolt on the front door—he had him trapped! Now, all he had to do was get the sword away from him and…

The pirate suddenly darted to the side, slipping into the living quarters that adjoined the smithy. Will cursed and hurried after him.

As he did so, his eyes fell momentarily on one of the many worktables in the room. This one was filled with completed items ready for delivery. Among the odd bits of tools and silverware were some items that he'd been commissioned to make for the prison. He took a moment to quickly snatch up a pair of handcuffs.

Throwing open the door to his small bedroom, Will found the pirate making ready to climb out the window. He lunged forward, sword out, but the man suddenly wheeled around, blocking the young smith's sword with his own.

As they dueled once more, Will let his eyes dart around his sparse chambers. There was a long pole made of wood stretching from the middle of the floor all the way up to the rafters, serving as a means of support against some rotting beams in the ceiling until they could be properly replaced.

Perfect.

Will twisted to the side, placing his back against the wooden post. The pirate lunged after him, and Will pulled away at the last second causing the man to nearly slam his face against the wood and drop his sword. Will took advantage of his position by kicking away the sword and grasping the man's wrists, clapping the irons around them on either side of the pole, trapping him in place. His eyes fell on a pistol tucked into the man's belt, and he quickly relieved him of that as well before stepping back to a safer distance.

The pirate tugged at the chains for a moment, testing the sturdiness of the post that held him in place. Those obsidian orbs rested on his young captor, not angrily, but calculating. Will could almost see the gears turning in this strange man's head, and yet…he felt certain that there was something familiar about that intense stare.

"Going to alert the Commodore that I'm here?"

"Yes," Will said carefully.

"In that case, I'd like me hat back."

Will stared at him, completely taken aback. Whatever he'd been expecting the man to say, that most certainly wasn't it. What did a bloody hat matter when he was about to be arrested and hung? Could it be some kind of trick to escape?

"Why?"

Suddenly anger flashed in the pirate's eyes. "It was given to me by me best mate," he said threateningly. "The hat stays with me."

Will wasn't sure why, but he believed him. There was a certain amount of sincerity lurking around those dark brown eyes. Keeping a wary eye on trained on the pirate, he moved out into the shop.

The hat was still lying where he had first seen it. As he picked it up, however, a memory suddenly flashed before his eyes; a memory of stiff, new leather, less faded…

He put his hand out on the workbench to steady himself as wave upon wave of memory came cascading over him with an almost dizzying effect. That same hat, so large in his small hands…his father's laughter…the young, powerful captain with captivating eyes…an older guard's voice saying, "The man we're after is a vicious, blood-thirsty pirate."

Pirate…the pirate currently trapped in Will's bedroom…the pirate with those amazingly dark eyes like those of the young Captain Jack…

Will made his way back to his room in a sort of daze. He stood for a moment in the doorway, the hat clutched in his hands, staring at the man he now recognized as his father's sea captain.

Jack had changed in the past thirteen years. He was no longer in that awkward transition phase between boy and man. The stubble on his face had been allowed to grow out into a full mustache and a peculiar twin-braided beard. He still kept his hair tied back with a red bandana, but some of his hair had matted to form dreadlocks. Other strands were braided or had beads twisted into them or simply hung loose around his shoulders.

Will let his eyes sweep over the strong, muscular frame, partially hidden by loose, mismatched clothes. Jack was quite a handsome man, he decided, although in a rather odd way.

Slowly, almost as though he were in a dream, he crossed over to Jack and carefully placed the hat upon the older man's head, just as he'd done when he was seven years old. The Captain's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and Will thought he could see a faint light of recognition in those kohl-smudged depths.

He had just opened his mouth to say something when a loud crash snapped him back into the present. Not stopping to think, he whirled around and ran out into the forge, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Several armed guards, led by Commodore Norrington, had broken through the front door.

"He's just gone that way—out the back," Will said, pointing.

The men dashed out in pursuit. The Commodore stayed behind long enough to give Will an annoyed glare.

"With your swordsmanship skills, Mr. Turner, you should have been able to detain him for us."

"I would have…only he was hiding here when I arrived. He took me by surprise."

Norrington nodded and moved to the back door just as a guard was reentering. "Any sign of Sparrow?"

"Not yet, sir," the man answered. "We're not sure which way he went."

"Well, tell the men to split up, then," Norrington ordered.

The guard saluted and left. The Commodore started to follow him but paused in the doorway, his eyes sweeping over the smithy once more. He eyed the darkened rafters uncertainly.

"You're sure he left, Mr. Turner? He'd not still here hiding somewhere?"

"I'd hardly be harboring a pirate, Commodore," Will said angrily.

Norrington gave himself a little shake. "Of course not. I doubt he'll try to come back here, but all the same, keep your eyes open. Alert one of my men if you see any sign of him."

Will breathed a sigh of relief as the Commodore left. He stood quite still for a moment wondering if he'd gone mad.

He'd just helped a wanted man evade the law…twice. A pirate; the same pirate that had threatened Elizabeth. Why did he feel this fierce need to protect this strange man that he didn't even really know?

The answer came back to him almost at once. He wanted to know what had become of his father, and this man was his last remaining link to his past. A small part of his brain tried to tell him that that was no excuse for aiding in piracy, but he chose to ignore that part of himself.

He crossed to the worktable that he'd taken the handcuffs from and picked up the corresponding keys. He made his way to his bedroom door, opening it, and standing in the doorway uncertainly for a moment.

Jack had sat down, cross-legged, with his hands stretched out in front of him, still cuffed to the post. He looked up at Will thoughtfully.

"Why did ye do that?"

"I don't know," Will said softly.

The pirate grinned, and Will noticed that two of his teeth had been replaced with gold. "Still doing stupid things, I see."

Will didn't reply. He moved forward, carefully unlocking the iron cuffs.

The pirate tried again. "You're a long way from home, young William."

"England's not my home anymore," Will said simply. He added on an afterthought, "So 'Jack Sparrow' is your full name, then? I never knew."

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow," the older man corrected.

Will didn't have time to reply, for at that moment one of Norrington's men passed by outside the smithy, quite close to Will's window. Mercifully, the guard didn't look in, but it gave both Will and Jack a start.

Will quickly pulled the shutters closed and fumbled in the dim light for a small oil lamp that he kept on a table near his bed. As the room was once more filled with light, he noticed that Jack was still staring at the window thoughtfully.

"Not much chance of escape right now," he mused, more to himself than to Will. "Perhaps I can slip away after dark…"

Will chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. "They'll still have guards posted everywhere, even at night, until they're sure you've left Port Royal. By tomorrow night they'll have completed their search and lowered their guard…if you stay here and don't cause any more trouble, that is."

Jack appeared to think this through before nodding his approval and sitting down on Will's bed, leaning his back against the wall. "Well, I guess I'm here till then." He gave Will a long, studying look. "You're yer father's son all right, and I must say that ye impressed me with yer command of a sword. I never thought I'd meet anyone more skilled than yer father…until today, that is." He gave Will a meaningful look.

"My father…" Will began, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer. "Jack, what happened to him?"

"Yer father?" Jack shifted uneasily and suddenly wouldn't meet Will's gaze.

"Yes, the last time I saw him was when he sailed away with you. What happened after you left port?"

The older man sighed, rubbing his forehead with long fingers before meeting Will's gaze. "The truth, lad, is that I don't know what became of yer father, although I do have me suspicions. About a month after we left England, there was a mutiny aboard me ship led by my first mate. Ev'ryone was against me—said I was too young and foolish to be captain—only Bill stood up for me. They locked him in the brig, and that was the last I saw of him. Soon after, we sailed upon a deserted isle, an' they left me there. I've not seen Bill or me ship since."

Will's heart clenched painfully as he asked, "Do you think they killed him?"

"It's the usual thing in cases like that," Jack muttered bitterly.

Will sank down to sit on the bed next to Jack, feeling suddenly very weary. It hurt knowing the truth, and yet in some ways it was a relief. He'd known in his heart for a long time that his father must be dead, but there had always been that nagging little pull at the back of his mind whispering, 'whatif…?' Not knowing had been more painful than what he was experiencing now.

Another question from his childhood rose to the surface of his mind; one that he'd often thought about, but didn't dare voice. Now, years later, the Commodore's accusations of Jack being a pirate only served to reinforce his worst childhood fears.

"Jack…" he began slowly, not sure if he really wanted an answer. "Have you always been a pirate?—I mean, were you a pirate all those years ago when we first met?"

A mere nod of the head was all the answer he received, but it was all he really needed. He pressed on.

"And Captain Richards, who came before you, was he—?"

Another nod.

"Oh." Will swallowed hard. "Then…my father _was _a pirate."

This piece of news stung more sharply than when he'd learned of his father's death just minutes ago. After all, he'd looked up to his father his entire life, and now, after all these years, to find out that he was really some common criminal…

He remained deep in thought for quite some time. He had been lied to about his father's profession, but as far as he knew, that was the only lie his parents ever told him. Will always remembered his father as being a kind and just man who kept his word and was a loving husband and father. Those were the reasons Will admired him, and even though his father had been a pirate, those qualities still rang true.

"Somehow," Will said slowly, "even with that knowledge, I can't think any less of him."

"Ye shouldn't," Jack said with conviction. "He was a good man—a good pirate, but a good man."

Jack reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a bottle full of amber colored liquid. Popping it open, he took a long swig from it, the potent smell of alcohol filling the air. Though he'd never tried it, Will recognized the smell as rum—a favorite of Mr. Brown's.

The pirate captain turned to offer the bottle to Will, who just smiled and shook his head. Jack grinned wickedly, and Will thought he could detect a challenging glint in the older man's gaze.

"Come on, whelp. Are ye yer father's son or not?"

Will eyed the bottle with distaste before hesitantly taking a small sip. He coughed immediately, his eyes watering as the liquid burned down his throat.

Jack laughed loudly, giving him a rough pat on the back. "Ye'll get used to it."

"I don't think I'd care to get used to it," Will said, glaring indignantly at the pirate.

There was an uncomfortable stretch of silence while Will racked his brain for something to say. Jack seemed to be perfectly content with the silence as long as he had his bottle of rum to occupy him, but Will found the quiet strangely unnerving.

"When your crew marooned you," Will began hesitantly, "you said they left you on a deserted island. If it was deserted, how did you escape?"

"Sea turtles," came the immediate reply. "Strapped to my feet."

Will snorted. "Is that true?"

Jack studied him a moment with those amazingly dark eyes that were now glinting with amusement. "No," he admitted, "but it sounds good, doesn't it?" Will laughed along with him. "So tell me, Master Turner, how is it that you came to reside in this fine establishment?"

Will sighed, not sure where to begin. "Well, about three years after my father went missing, my mother fell ill with scarlet fever and died. I booked passage on a ship heading for the Caribbean, hoping to find some trace of my father. On the way, the ship was attacked by pirates."

"Pirates?" Jack interjected, taking interest. "Who were they?"

"I don't know," Will said. "They didn't board the ship—simply attacked it. That's always something that's confused me. I always thought that pirates attacked other ships for the purpose of stealing. Why blow up a perfectly good ship and all its people and supplies?"

"Perhaps the captain had a score to settle with someone on board," Jack suggested. "But still, it is unusual."

"When I first saw the ship on the horizon, I thought it was my father's ship—your ship," Will admitted. "It looked exactly the same only with black sails."

"Really? Now that's interesting," Jack said, with more than just casual interest in his voice.

"I got a glimpse of the captain. He was a much older man, so I knew I must have been mistaken about the ship. In any event, I realized that the ship I was on was carrying a large shipment of gunpowder and that it was sure to explode from all the cannon fire. I dove into the water and swam as far away from the two ships as I could. I didn't get very far before the explosion happened and debris went flying everywhere. I managed to climb onto a rather large plank of wood and watched as the pirate ship sailed away and the remainder of the merchant vessel went down in flames."

Jack let out a low whistle. "How did ye manage to get yerself out of that?"

"It was just pure luck, really," Will admitted. "A navy ship was passing by, bound for Port Royal. On it were Commodore Norrington, Governor Swann and his daughter, Elizabeth. It was she who spotted me in the water. They rescued me and brought me here. Governor Swann arranged for my apprenticeship to Mr. Brown. They've been very kind to me."

"Elizabeth Swann," Jack said thoughtfully. "Isn't she the one I threatened down at the docks today?"

Sudden anger sparked in Will. "Yes, and if you touch her again, I swear it will be the last thing you ever do."

"Easy, lad, easy," Jack put up his hands in a defeated gesture. "I'd no intention of really harming her—just using me initiative to try an' escape that bloody Commodore. Don't forget, it was me that rescued her from drowning in the first place."

"You were?" Will said, surprised. "I did hear that she'd almost drowned, but no one mentioned who rescued her."

"How do you think they caught me to begin with?" Jack asked indignantly. "A fine thanks that was!"

The smith was about to reply when Mr. Brown's voice cut through the air, making them both jump. "Will?"

Will scurried out into the forge lest his master come looking for him and find Jack in his bedroom. He hadn't, however, shut the door properly, and Jack edged closer to the crack to better hear their conversation.

"Yes, Mr. Brown?"

"What's all that racket going on outside?"

"Just the Commodore and his men, sir. I believe they're looking for an escaped criminal."

There was a dry chuckle. "One of them's slipped away, have they? Bet the Commodore was hoppin' mad." There was the sound of bottles rattling. "Help me up, boy. What time is it?"

"Late, sir," came Will's truthful reply. "Perhaps you should retire for the evening?"

Will returned a few minutes later after shutting down the forge for the evening. He found the pirate sprawled across his bed, waiting for him.

"Real respectable gentleman, that Mr. Brown," Jack muttered sarcastically.

"He hasn't always been like this," Will said in his master's defense. "Just this past year, really—ever since his wife died while giving birth to their first child. The babe itself was stillborn; nothing to be done for it."

Will sat down on the bed beside Jack and tugged off his boots. "Although he's become a burden, I can't really blame him for it. Losing your wife and your only child all in the same day…that'd been enough to unhinge anyone."

"I suppose it would," Jack said thoughtfully. "Wouldn't know meself. Never been married, and I don't have any kids…that I know of, anyway," he added with a wink. He stretched, yawning. "Time for bed, I think."

"Yes," Will agreed. "You don't mind sharing the bed, do you? I'd make up a bed on the floor only I haven't got any spare blankets."

"Not a problem," Jack said, flopping over to one side. "I don't take up much room."

After the light had been put out and the two settled as comfortably as they could be on such a small bed, Will murmured, "You never did tell me how you managed to escape that island."

"No, I didn't," Jack agreed. "Not told that to anyone, though. Perhaps someday I'll tell ye the truth."


	3. Chapter 2: An Unnecessary Risk

**Harboring a Pirate**

**By Serena-chan**

**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing, save my imagination, of course. This applies to all chapters that may appear under this story's heading.

**Summary: **Will and Jack meet thirteen years before their adventures in Port Royal, back when Jack was the new captain of his father's ship. (Cute little scene where Jack gets his precious hat.) Now, during a chance meeting in the blacksmith's shop, Will begins to remember his father's eccentric captain. (_Curse of the Black Pearl_)

**Chapter 2: An Unnecessary Risk**

Jack watched the steady rise and fall of Will's chest as he peacefully slept. Moonlight was streaming in through the cracks in the shutters, illuminating the slumbering angel next to him.

Will had grown into quite a handsome man. He was one of the few men Jack had ever seen that could be described as 'beautiful' and still masculine. His silky, chestnut locks were curled on the pillow around him, framing his face. His shirt was open at the front, revealing strong muscles, toned through hours of work at the forge and sword practice. The sight was enough to make Jack's breath hitch.

_Steady, mate,_ Jack thought to himself. _This is Bill's son._ But try as he might, his thoughts did little to quell the heat gathering in his groin.

The peace of the evening was suddenly shattered by a loud explosion. Will jerked up in bed so fast that he almost knocked heads with Jack.

"What's happening?" he asked groggily.

"Sounds like the town's under attack," Jack said, moving to unlatch the shutters and peer outside. Loud booms echoed through the night, followed by crashing and screams.

"Wait, I know those cannons," Jack said with sudden conviction. "It's the _Pearl_."

"The _Black Pearl_?" Will asked.

"Ye've heard of her?"

"I've heard she's the most dangerous pirate ship in the Caribbean. I've also heard it said that when she comes sailing into a town to attack and plunder, the crew kills everyone, leaving to survivors."

"No survivors?" Jack said with a smirk. "Then where do the stories come from, I wonder?"

Will didn't stop to reply. He was suddenly out of bed and pulling on his boots.

"Where are ye going?" Jack asked as he watched Will snatch up a sword. "Will, ye can't go out there. Ye'll get yerself killed."

"Port Royal is my home, Jack," Will said firmly. "I have to defend it."

He paused on his way out the door. "Stay here. I don't want one of the Commodore's men seeing you and realizing you're still in port."

And then he was gone. Jack moved to the window, peaking out to watch the young smith make magic with his sword once more. Will truly was the best swordsman he'd ever seen. Jack watched admiringly as he managed to fend off three men at once.

Suddenly, however, Will seemed to be distracted. He kept taking his eyes off the men in front of him to glance at something that was happening beyond Jack's narrow line of vision. The smith never saw the fourth man come up behind him.

Jack watched in horror as the man struck Will in the back of the head with the handle of his musket. As he crumpled to the ground unconscious, Jack sprang into action. He grabbed his sword and raced, heedless of his bare feet, into the battle.

He reached Will just as one of the men he'd been fighting was pressing a blade to his neck. With a loud roar, Jack knocked the sword away with his own, before running the pirate through.

He had about a half-second to prepare himself before the other three leapt to their comrade's defense. He made quick work slicing two of their throats while the final man beat a hasty retreat.

Jack glanced about him uneasily as he gathered the boy in his arms. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed him amongst the surrounding chaos. He carried Will quickly into the smithy and bolted the door behind them.

He lay the young smith down on the bed as carefully as possible, trying to assess the damage. There was a large knot on the back of his head, but what concerned Jack more was the blood trickling down from the small cut in the side of his neck. The pirate shuddered as he realized just how close Will had come to losing his head.

Jack fetched a basin of water and, after a little hunting, found some semi-clean looking rags on one of the workbenches. As he cleaned the wound, he cursed silently to himself.

He'd taken a big chance coming to Will's aid, for neither the attacking pirates nor the navy men would think twice about running him through. Saving people was fine, as a general rule, but only if there wasn't too much personal risk involved. It had been a _very_ long time since he'd cared enough to put someone else's life before his own.

Slowly, he eased himself onto the bed next to Will, careful not to bump his injured head and neck. He felt strangely protective of the younger man, though for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. Perhaps it was because the boy looked so much like his father?

Jack had always felt a secret thrill around the older Turner, and as a young captain, he'd hoped to persuade the older man to become his lover, as so often happened with sailors who spent many months at sea together. However, the mutiny had occurred before that could happen, and Jack once again cursed Barbossa and every member of his ex-crew.

As he reached up to brush a few stray curls from Will's face, he knew that what he felt for the younger man was far more complicated than physical attraction. There were so many things about the younger man that captivated him; his talent was a blacksmith, his command of a sword, his stubborn pride and morals, his unwavering loyalty to those he cared for—even his stupidly heroic streak.

Jack wrapped his arm around Will protectively, fighting away a sudden rush of desire as he felt the hard muscles in his chest and stomach. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the gently rhythm of the young man's breathing.


End file.
